Can't Lose More Family
by fantasdancer
Summary: One of the team has been kidnapped.  Will the rest be able to cope with losing another team member?
1. Chapter 1

Eric Beale carried his surfboard out onto his favourite stretch of beach and gazed at the waves critically. The storm the night before had done just as he predicted and brought waves that were larger than the usual. It was going to be an awesome morning for surfing. He coughed roughly into the sleeve of his wetsuit. Yeah, even with a chest cold coming along, he wasn't going to pass up on waves as awesome as these. Quickly he dropped his towel onto the beach and clipped a small gadget into a pocket inside his wetsuit. He could feel the anticipation and exhilaration that surfing gave him climb into every cell of his body.

He took a quick glance around the all but deserted beach. Deeks wasn't around that he could see. The agent liked to surf occasionally but he wasn't devoted to the sport – not like Eric was. Deeks also liked to sleep in after an awful case and the last case had been pretty damned awful.

For Eric though, it was all about the surf, the board and control. He loved things that he could _move_ with, be it pogo sticks, bikes, skate boards, roller blades whatever. He liked the subtlety of them and how one little twitch or turn could alter his movement. And with surfing it was like the ultimate in body control, where a head turn or a shift in balance could make a huge difference on how he rode a wave. It was like magic, and something he hoped he would never grow out of.

Eric zippered his wet suit closed and went into the cold surf pushing his board ahead of him, he coughed raggedly again and started paddling out. Dawns first light was breaking the horizon now - enough so that he could make out the lone surfer that had beat him out. It wasn't Deeks. It was a female by the amount of chest on her – _definitely_ female. Eric spared a moment for an appreciative glance towards her, before his attention shifted back to the waves again. Perfect. There was nothing but good waves, one other surfer, and someone further out on a jet ski. All in all he was going to have a great start to the day.

The first wave he caught took him almost all the way in. Eric turned his board and headed straight out again. The girl had left the water and was talking into a mobile phone, so it was just him and the next wave. That wouldn't last long though. He'd only have two or three more rides in before more surfers and early morning swimmers turned up. He could already see a car pulling up with a board on the roof. That one could be Deek's car and Eric spent a second or two debating on waiting for his newest surfing buddy, but having the surf completely to himself was too good an opportunity to pass up on. Eric paddled out fast.

The next wave he caught was great. He caught it on the peak at just the right moment and managed a couple of good snaps and cutbacks on the ride in. Still no Deeks, but the board was off of the car roof. Eric paddled back out again for one more exclusive wave.

He turned the board when he was far enough out, and sat up and straddled it so that he could cough again. He didn't see the jet ski guy until almost the last second. The guy had cut his engine and had come up directly behind him.

"Hey!" yelled Eric, startled by the guys close proximity.

The guy angled the jet ski even closer.

Eric was about to tell the guy where the hell to go when jet ski guy lifted a gun and shot him point blank. Eric slumped half into the water and felt himself being hauled across the lap of the jet ski guy … and then everything … faded … to nothing.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

**_First NCIS story - not sure if I'm gonna continue or if I even have the characters right - please pass on your opinions_**


	2. Chapter 2

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Marty Deeks repositioned his board under one arm and managed to catch his towel just before he dropped it. It was awful timing. Messing with them cost him an uninterrupted view of the girl surfers' impressive chest and trim waistline as she passed him on the way back to the car park. He glanced back at her once with a puzzled frown and watched her shove her board into the back of a jeep before jumping in. Odd, he thought. Why would she be leaving now? It was just the start of the surfing day. Maybe she'd been hassled by someone on the beach or something.

Deeks caught at his towel again and wandered out onto the sand. It was early still and the beach was deserted. He wouldn't be out here at all if he'd been able to get to sleep, but he had a lot on his mind lately with the new job and the new apartment and the nastier than he was used too cases.

Surfing was a great relaxer, but at the same time, the cold water would wake him up enough to make it through the day on virtually no sleep. Then there was Eric. It felt good to have a friend that he didn't need to hide his identity from, that he could be relaxed and real around, someone laid back and easy going with some of the same recreational interests as he had.

He spotted Eric paddling out energetically. As far as he was concerned, the kid had way too much energy for his own good, and that came from one thing and one thing one: riding a desk job all day long, stuck in an office without windows. Deeks couldn't understand people who could ride desks all day like that. It was totally unnatural, but Eric made up for his desk bound existence by surfing almost daily in all kinds of weather. He'd even gone surfing once in a hail storm. With that kind of commitment, Deeks guessed that Eric didn't enjoy his desk bound existence nearly as much as he pretended to.

Deeks dropped his towel on the sand and lifted his board, but something caught his attention. A guy on a jet ski was coming in fast and he was headed straight for Eric. Deeks stepped closer, toes dipping into the water, watching the scene with unease. There was no reason for anyone to crowd Eric that he could see. Maybe jet ski guy was the reason that the girl surfer had left the beach so early. Deeks's gaze hardened. One thing that he couldn't stand was bullying. If this guy was gonna cause trouble then he was gonna learn a lesson – Deeks style.

He watched as Jet ski guy cruised closer. Eric had just gotten his board turned around and hadn't seen the guy.

Then jet ski guy snatched up a weapon and shot Eric.

"Crap!" spat Deeks taking a few stumbling steps into the water, but he immediately realised that he was too far away to be of any help to his friend. Still, Deeks clambered onto his own board and began paddling towards the scene as quickly as he could, keeping his eyes locked onto Eric and the jet ski guy.

Deeks watched helplessly as the kid slumped half off of his board only to get hauled in by jet ski guy. For a second he was grateful that the guy wasn't just going to let Eric drown and then he began frantically cursing under his breath as he realised that Eric was being kidnapped right under his nose and that there wasn't a damned thing that he could do about it. Either Eric was dead and being dragged off to be dumped out into deeper water, or he was watching his friend get kidnapped.

Deeks strained his eyes trying to pick out all of the details that he could. He couldn't see any identifying features on the guy except that he had short brownish hair. The jet ski was painted electric blue all over and he couldn't make out any identifying marks on it at all. Jet ski guy cut loose Eric's board leash and glanced casually his way before he headed off out into the ocean at full speed with Eric draped limply over his legs.

"Eric!" yelled Deeks, uselessly. He followed along on his board until he caught up with Eric's board. He sat up then and watched the jet ski until it faded from sight. Then he took Eric's severed board leash and paddled awkwardly back to the beach with Eric's board in toe. He carried his stuff and Eric's stuff back to his car at a run.

Deeks pulled his work cell from his glove box and dialled up a four digit code twice over. Then he flung himself into the drivers seat and headed back to the office. He couldn't help but think that it had been a bad sign that jet ski guy had been heading out into deep water with Eric, where there was nothing but hungry sharks.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN


	3. Chapter 3

Hetty lifted her head off of her pillow, pulled loose her eye mask and fumbled for her phone. It was an ungodly hour but with the nature of her job she always had a phone close to hand and she _never_ ignored a call.

It was hard to see without her glasses but her vision was good enough to read the code words that flashed across the screen on her mobile. "Dear heaven," she murmured. An agent needs assistance alert from Marty Deeks. One of her team was in trouble. In seconds she was out of bed and snatching up her clothes. Deeks was the newest member of the team and was still settling in. He wasn't quite as up on some techniques as some of the other agents were and so she was a little more worried for him than she would have been for the others. They could be counted on to get themselves out of situations if at all possible where as she was still uncertain about Deeks's capabilities.

She made it to the office in record time since there was hardly anything on the road at that time of the morning. She had been called into the office for an emergency of one kind or another on several other occasions, but never before had she been the first to arrive. Eric Beale – who lived quite close by, would usually beat her in and have the lights on and a preliminary report ready for her. As the senior tech operator, he would have been called in as well as all other available agents.

She turned on the main lights and headed towards her desk with a hrumph of disapproval for the young mans' tardiness.

Callen hurried in not long after with Sam and Kensi. "Hetty? What's going on?"

Hetty waved her hand behind her as she headed for her computer. "I've got no idea at this stage. I've only just arrived myself. All I know is that young Deeks sent the Agent needs assistance code.

Callen glanced at Sam and Kensi with a worried frown. "We're not on anything yet. Maybe it's something out of one of his old cases?"

Hetty shook her head as she booted up her computer. "There's no point in speculating or worrying about anyone until we have the facts in front of us."

Nell Jones wandered in. Her hair was sleep messy and although she wore her usual neat clothes her feet were stuck inside a pair of fluffy bunny slippers.

"Ahh?" began Sam looking pointedly at Nell's feet.

Nell looked down and sighed loudly. "I'm not a morning person. I really don't wake up unless I've had two cups of strong coffee before I head out of the door."

Hetty shook her head. "That's irrelevant today, you could have come to work in your pyjamas for all I care. The point is that you treated it as the urgent call to duty that it is – unlike Mr Beale."

Nell's eyes opened wide. "Eric's not here yet?"

"He's probably surfing," said Sam soothingly.

"I'm aware of Mr Beale's penchant for the waves. That's why he's supposed to carry an expensive water proof signal device inside of his wet suit whenever he goes out."

"Maybe he's got a flat battery?" offered Kensi softly.

"He's probably still on his way," added Callen.

"I'll just … ," said Nell pointing awkwardly towards the office upstairs.

"You do that Miss Jones," said Hetty a little more abruptly than she normally would.

Callen raised his eyebrow at her as Nell scrambled towards the stairs.

"I'm not an early morning person either these days, Mr Callen, especially when one of my agents might be in trouble." She glared at her computer screen. "This is frustrating, there are no relevant updates here, let's follow Miss Jones and see what she can come up with."

Nell was rushing around the room in a flustered manner when the rest of the team arrived. "The computers are still coming on line but so far I've picked up Deek's GPS signal from his car and it's moving …" she frowned, "into the car park downstairs."

Hetty raised her eyebrows.

There was the sound of feet running up the stairs and in burst Deeks, covered in sand and with wet hair plastered to his face.

"Mister Deeks!" began Hetty sternly.

"It's not me that's in trouble. It's Eric," said Deeks quickly and he explained what he had seen at the beach. "I couldn't get a good look at the guy on the jet ski 'cause they were too far out, but I got Eric's board. It was definitely him that got shot."

Sam ran a hand over the back of his neck and turned away cursing fluently in Arabic.

Callen had closed his eyes in pain. "Shot," he murmured almost without sound.

Kensi sank into a seat next to Nell and dropped her head down into her hands.

Hetty had paled a little. "No, no we can't afford to jump to any conclusions and I refuse to believe that another one of our team is dead. We need to think this through logically. Now if someone truly wanted Eric dead then there were infinitely easier ways to achieve that, on the other hand …"

Sam spun around to face the team again. "If they wanted to kidnap him then they needed a relatively unpopulated place to do it."

Callen nodded thoughtfully. "They would have been planning this for days or weeks even. Eric's probably been under surveillance. Someone's been watching his apartment and his routine. "

Kensi nodded. "In which case there _will_ be some sort of surveillance footage somewhere. Eric was probably shot with a traquillizer dart or something. He could be alive."

Hetty nodded her head briskly. "We'll go with that theory first until we have more information. Mr Deek's do you remember anything else that may help?"

"There was a blonde. Gorgeous thing with a tiny waist and a set so …." Deeks blushed dropping hands that he had started to hold out in front of his chest and glanced awkwardly away from Nell and Hetty. "Um … tall girl with a surfboard. She was leaving the beach just as I arrived. She drove off in a late model jeep. I'm thinking she might have tipped off the guy with the jet ski."

Nells nodded and turned towards the computer. "I'm picking up surveillance footage for Eric's apartment and for the car park near the beach that Eric uses. Also running a search on … oh."

"What?" asked Kensi.

"I … Eric had a flag placed on some information that was stolen when our servers were hacked a couple of months before I started work here – something to do with stolen NCIS personnel files," she tapped away at the keyboard in front of her for a few moments. "Damn – whoever did this is a pro. The only reason the flag came up is because Eric is so good at what he does. They knew we'd be on the look out for this stuff.

"Can you find out what … ," began Hetty.

"Eric's file. Someone paid five hundred thousand dollars about two weeks ago for Eric's file," said Nell grimly.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Eric stirred. His mouth had an awful taste in it and his head pounded as if he'd had a litre of pure malt whiskey poured down his throat. That couldn't be right he thought hazily. The last time that he'd had whiskey was the night after Dom had died, Hetty had given it to him – and he'd sworn off ever having more of the stuff, unless they lost another one of the team. He frowned a little as his body fought its way past the aching fuzziness in his head. Everyone got back safe after the last case. He was sure of it. So why …?

He opened salt crusted eyes with difficult and rolled onto his side, coughing a little. What the …? He sat up quickly and immediately winced as the headache pounded strongly behind his eyes. He was still wearing his wet suit although the top half had been peeled back to his waist. Eric fingered the sore spot on his chest where the dart had hit him and shivered.

This was all wrong. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to him. He was a computer geek. Kidnapping and getting shot at happened to _agents_ and tough guys – not to him. There must have been some sort of mistake.

Eric took a steadying breath of salty smelling air and peered around the room. There was a puddle of water in one corner of the room and a trickle of water running down a mould filled corner from a small hole in the ceiling. A toilet – or what once must have passed for a toilet was in one corner, and beside it was a small mould covered sink leaning haphazardly to the side on a badly bent pipe.

The room was small and dark – maybe it had been a bathroom or something once, but it had no windows and only a single heavy wooden door with no handle on it. The walls had once been tiled and plastered with something but now the tiles were all gone and more than half of the huge bricks were bare and covered in a thin green slime. The door had a small pigeon hole opening cut into it through which all of the available light came.

Eric stood up and swayed a little dizzily, he steadied himself against the damp wall and then he moved across the cold floor to the door and pushed at it. Locked, of course and now he could see that the door had been recently attached to the brickwork on a pair of massive hinges.

Eric glared at the keyhole. He patted down his wetsuit looking for something to try in the lock but anything that he might have had had been taken already, and he didn't even have his glasses. He shivered as he realised that someone had searched him while he had been unconscious. That was _so_ not a nice feeling.

He peered through the pigeon hole and saw a single bare light bulb hanging in a dank looking hallway. There was mud on the floor and bits of mouldy rubbish, and he could make out another closed door around a curved hallway and nothing else.

"Hello? Anyone? Can someone get me out of here?" yelled Eric.

There was no reply, nothing in fact, except for the constant drip of water and the occasional rustle of rubbish being blown through the empty hall.

Damn, why on earth had someone nabbed him? Eric shivered and pulled his wetsuit back on over his still slightly damp body. It was cold in the room, cold enough that he could see his breath in the faint light coming through the door. He coughed raggedly onto his wetsuit sleeve, and started to pace the room nervously.

If it had been Deeks coming down to the beach then the guys would be already looking for him. If it _had_ been Deeks. If not, then no one would know what had happened to him.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN


	4. Chapter 4

Deeks's eyes were getting sore. He was finding it harder to concentrate on the surveillance camera footage too, and he kept raking his brain trying to remember if there was something else that he had seen when Eric had been nabbed. Usually he was a very observant kinda guy and he could remember details easily. But not this time. This time the details were hazy and he was worried that he was missing something. He'd already closed his eyes and tried a couple of techniques to try and prompt his memory but nothing was working the way it usually did for him. Maybe it was 'cause Eric was a friend and that made him too tense to remember properly. It didn't help that he hadn't slept either. A little timer in the corner of the main computer screen showed that Eric had been missing for seven hours already, and Deeks didn't want to think about kidnap victims and the statistics for their survival after the first twenty four hours. He didn't want to wonder if this was all for nothing – 'cause it _could_ have been a gun shot and Eric _could_ already be dead.

"Freeze it," said Kensi.

Deeks jolted himself out of his rambling thoughts and rubbed at his eyes.

Kensi settled into the seat next to Deeks and pointed to a figure on the screen. "There, you can just make her out in the coffee shop over the road from Eric's apartment."

Deeks blinked hard at the picture. "Nell, can you get this image up on the big screen and maybe enhance it a bit?"

Nell had a pencil in her mouth and simply nodded her answer as she got down to work.

Deeks moved over to peer at the blown up image. "That could be her – I recognise the … errr.

"Large boobs?" suggested Kensi with a smirk.

Deeks didn't bat an eyelid and said smoothly: "Hair, I was going to say hair. She had lots of long hair. Long blonde hair."

Kensi's smirk grew larger and she shook her head knowingly.

Nell stared at Deeks doubtfully. "Are you sure that's what you were going to say? "Cause I can hardly see her hair with that window frame in the way, all I can see is her … um … ."

Deeks interrupted abruptly, making a point of not looking at Nell or Kensi. "Can we wind the tape forward and get a better image of her when she leaves the place?"

Nells nodded her head and tapped at her keyboard.

"Great, she'd put on a hat. We can't see her face," murmured Nell bitterly.

"She's done that deliberately," said Kensi. "Look at where she crosses the street there. She's picked the best spot to avoid the surveillance camera."

"She's carrying a pretty big camera bag there," said Deeks, picking up the phone. "I'm calling Callen."

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

Sam came back into Eric's lounge room from the kitchen. "Never thought of Eric as a neat kid – you know, from the way he dresses and all."

Callen shook his head. "He just likes going casual."

Sam nodded with a frown on his face, looking around uncomfortably. He picked up a photo from the piano and frowned at the image of Eric and a group of his surfing friends. He put the photo back and brushed his fingers over the strings of a guitar that was sitting in the corner on a guitar stand. He picked up a magazine off of the coffee table. "Surfing stuff." He sighed, "There are no clues here that I can see. You know, his computer's got more encryption on it than fort knox. I'm not game to go through it."

Callen nodded. "Uncomfortable isn't it."

"What?"

"Going through a colleagues' personal stuff."

Sam sighed. "Yeah. Actually the last couple of times I had to do this, things didn't turn out all that well."

Callen nodded understandingly, remembering that Dom's place had been the last one that they had to go through – and not all that long ago either. He didn't want to compare Eric's kidnapping to Dom's. He didn't want to think that this would end the same way as Dom's had either. But they had virtually no clues to go on and there was nothing at Eric's apartment to help them – and he couldn't help but remember that this was almost _exactly_ the way things had gone down with Dom's case as well. There had been no leads and Dom had gone missing for months, only to get killed right when they managed to find him. Damn, he was gonna have nightmares now. Callen turned away from looking at Eric's stuff and gave his partner a curious stare. "You know, I didn't think you liked Eric all that much."

Sam's eyebrows rose, "Oh? What gave you that idea?"

"The way you came down on him a couple of times. You can be a little abrasive."

Sam shrugged. "Call it my protective instinct."

This time Callen's eyebrows lifted in disbelief. "Protective?"

Sam dropped the magazine back onto the coffee table and looked even more uncomfortable. "I guess it's my upbringing. You be tough on the younger ones so that they get tougher and can handle the curves life throws at them better."

Callen gazed at his partner in puzzlement. "That's protective?"

Sam sighed. "You had to grow up where I did to understand it. I like the kid, I do. His heart's in the right place, you know, but he's too smart. Scary smart – kinda like Hetty is."

Callen grabbed for his phone as it started ringing. "Hey, Deeks, we're at Eric's place now, but there's nothing much to see here. Have you got something?"

Deeks spoke quickly, "Is there maybe a window or a balcony overlooking the coffee shop on Cress Street?"

Callen nodded and walked over to open the sliding door. "Yup, Eric's got a table and some chairs out here and a very nice view towards the beach."

"So if someone had a camera in the coffee shop downstairs could they take pictures of Eric?"

Callen looked down critically. "Only if they we're sitting right by the window. Have you got something?"

"Yeah, blonde surfer girl was definitely involved. She was probably taking photos last Wednesday morning, and she was avoiding all the surveillance cameras in the area. I'd say she was a pro at this sort of thing."

Callen sighed. "Okay, keep looking for information on her. Sam and I will check on the coffee shop patrons."

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

A sound.

Eric's breath caught in his throat and he peered anxiously towards the pigeon hole in the door.

Another sound. Closer. Someone was coming.

Eric stood up and belatedly searched around the room for something to defend himself with. Damn it, he wasn't thinking. He should have gotten some sort of weapon organised long before this, but it was too late now. The door rattled and Eric saw the light from the key hole blotted out as the key was inserted.

The door slammed open with unnecessary violence and Eric couldn't help jumping and taking a nervous step backward. The brown haired guy who stepped into the room was only a little taller than Callen but had enough muscles on him for a body builder. Eric recognised him almost right away as the jet ski guy. He grinned at Eric and ran his eye over him assessingly.

Eric glared back defiantly. "Kidnapping is a federal offence," he practically snarled, suddenly feeling way more angry than scared. Sam would have been proud of him for not sounding like a wimp, thought Eric, feeling surprised at himself. "I'm hoping they throw out the key when they put you away."

The guy didn't so much as bat an eye at that. Behind him a second man stepped into the room. This guy was slightly shorter, dark haired and slimmer and he wore a neatly cut black suit. He made a point of scanning the room before settling his eyes on Eric. "This is him?"

"Yes sir, Mr Burrows."

Burrows smiled a little. "Mr Eric Beale. I have a job for you."

"I already have a job," snapped Eric.

"Yes, with the Office of Special Projects with the NCIS. Tell me, how is Hetty these days? I thought she would have been retired by now."

Eric blinked in surprise, and belatedly tried to keep his expression from giving anything away.

"I know everything there is to know about you Mr Beale and your talent with computers and technology. I know about your parents and your former colleagues. I could tell you all about your grades and what your Professors thought of you at university. I could tell you about your IQ and what you had for breakfast last week."

Eric simply glared at the man, "I don't care what you think you know or what you don't know. You don't own me and I don't work for thugs."

Burrows chuckled with real amusement and slammed his elbow into Eric's face.

Eric hadn't been expecting the blow. He slammed onto the floor with a yelp of mixed shock and pain. His head bounced off of the floor and for a long moment Eric was sure that he was going to pass out . When he finally got his eyes into focus again both men were standing right over him and this time Eric didn't feel anything but cold hard fear.

"Mr Beale, for a supposedly intelligent guy you're certainly painfully slow on the uptake," said Burrows mildly as he crouched down next to Eric. He reached out and fingered the red mark he had just made on Eric's cheek. "I do indeed own you Mr Beale, and you will work for me or there will be no need to keep you alive."

**_NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

"Got something!" yelled Nell from the balcony. She made sure that she had got everyones attention before she hurried back into the office.

Callen had jumped a little in his seat at her yell. He was used to Eric's whistles and calls – although usually they annoyed the hell out of him. But it was the kind of quirky Eric thing that made him Eric. And what he wouldn't give to hear Eric whistling for them now. Callen shook his head even as he hurried up the stairs with the rest of the team.

"That's the blonde. Cassidy Snider, she's the one that was at the beach," said Deeks waving his arm at the blown up picture on the big screen.

Nell nodded at the screen. "Cassidy Snider, twenty eight years old and once rated as _the_ best free lance bounty hunter in her part of the country. She went missing nearly a year ago. Her little sister has a substantial reward up for information leading to her whereabouts."

Hetty frowned at the image on the screen and then turned to catch Deeks in the middle of an enormous yawn. "Mr Deeks, you obviously need some quality sleep."

Marty's head shot up and he straightened up instantly. "I'm okay, I'm fine. I'd really prefer to keep working on the case."

"And so you will, Mr Deeks, after you've had at least seven hours of solid sleep," said Hetty firmly. "I promise we will call when we have some important information."

Deeks shoulders slumped. "I don't think I could sleep knowing that Eric's in trouble."

Hetty's eyes softened behind her glasses. "Think of it this way: Eric might need your help and you'll need to be at your best to provide that help, Mr Deeks."

Deeks nodded reluctantly and shuffled slowly towards the door.

Hetty turned back to the screen. "So, she's a missing person and a bounty hunter. What would she want with our Mr Beale?"

Callen shook his head. "I know Eric, he's got nothing to warrant kidnapping by bounty hunters. Maybe she's working for the ones that bought Eric's file."

Sam frowned at the screen. "It doesn't make sense. She's a missing person and she's not calling her sister to let her know that she's okay?"

"Maybe they had a falling out and big sister wanted to disappear," said Kensi. "It happens all the time."

Nell shook her head. "Nuh uh, the police report says that the two sisters were very close, and that things were fine between them. Cassidy disappeared on the way home from grocery shopping."

"Odd," murmured Hetty thoughtfully.

"Kensi shook her head. "It dosen't help us find Eric. She'd be using an alias."

"She drove a late model jeep," said Deeks from the doorway.

"Mr Deeks," began Hetty.

'Yeah, on my way," sighed Deeks. "I'm just saying that there can't be that many dark green late model Jeeps around."

Nell nodded her head and bent over her keyboard. "I've been checking. There are seventeen, all up. But I can narrow that figure down a lot, and I might be able to get some traffic cam footage that will get us a plate number for any late model green jeeps in Eric's neighbourhood over the last three weeks." She gave a sad half smile at Hetty and the team. "You know, when Eric's working with me we get things done a lot faster."

Hetty nodded her head. "You're doing fine, Miss Jones," Hetty raised her voice, "Mr Deeks if you insist on staying, there is a sofa with some blankets in the last room beside the archives down the hall, although you would rest a lot better in your own bed at your apartment. "

Deek's poked his head around the door and gave a sheepish grin. "Thanks Hetty," he murmured before he headed down the hall.

"There," said Nell. "A late model dark green jeep with a partial plate number," she drove her office chair over to a second computer terminal. "Running the partial plate number …. . Got it - Kathy Walton … 14 Heather Road."

Callen and Sam headed through the door at a run.

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

Eric woke up with a long moan of pain and peeled open grit filled eyes. Instantly he could feel the cold, the throbbing of his head and the many bruises that he'd been given and his toes scrabbled instinctively on the floor trying to make contact long enough to ease the pain in his arms and shoulders as he quickly realised that he was hanging in mid air by his wrists. He had to force himself to stop with the toes though, cause the more he moved the more he swung and the harder it was to find balance. It took him a minute, but finally he was able to balance on his toes and ease his shoulder pain a tiny bit. He panted at the tiny amount of relief and blinked down at his near naked body. They had stripped off his wet suit. They must have done it after he had passed out. And just thinking about them touching him while he'd been out cold was enough to make his skin crawl. Now he was down to his black swim shorts and he'd been strung up in a pair of manacles so that his toes barely touched the ground. Manacles of all things. What kind of a lunatic would go to the trouble of finding manacles? It was bizarre. Nuts! Absolutely crazy! Hadn't they heard of regular handcuffs?

Eric found himself wincing as his nearly frozen toes slipped on the slime coated floor and his arms were jerked tight again. It took him a few seconds to gain his balance again – although he didn't know why he was bothering, since the floor was so slimey his toes were just gonna slip again soon. They'd strung him up too high – unless this was how it was supposed to be. Eric gave a little mirthless chuckle. Damn, he didn't care how it was supposed to be - he wanted to go home!

He'd been beaten up by Burrows and his pet thug. Beaten until he had passed out. He'd only gotten one good punch in the whole time and that was to the thug's iron-hard stomach, and he kinda had the feeling that his wrist had gotten more damage than the thugs stomach had, anyway. Eric hadn't been beaten up since middle school, but even with that half remembered experience he could tell that this was a professional beat up. There was lots of pain, but mostly no permanent damage. He did have a few very sore ribs but he had no idea if they were cracked or if it was just the pain from the bruises and being strung up the way he was.

Eric squinted at the beam over his head holding a hook and chain that was attached to the manacles. He hadn't even noticed the beam with the hook in it. Callen would have, of course. Any of the team would have. His head dropped back down to his chest. Man, he was tired. Funny that – feeling tired, even though he'd just woken up. Maybe being unconscious didn't really count as rest. But there was no way he was gonna be able to sleep strung up the way he was and feeling the kind of pain that he was feeling.

The beam of light was shining on his bare stomach and he could see lots of bruises on his body already. Bruises took time to show up didn't they? Maybe he'd been out for more than a little while. He had no idea how long really – and losing the sense of time irritated him – a lot.

His head ached – also a lot – and not just from the elbow and the crack to the back of his head. He had a fever going. Not surprising considering all the mould and the cold and everything. His throat already felt raw and he wanted to cough but was trying his best to hold it back. It didn't take a genius to know that coughing while strung up like he was _so_ not a good thing to do.

Eric's toes skidded a little on the slime coated floor, and the slight movement sent ribbons of fire over his ribs and up through his shoulders and arms. He concentrated for a few moments on getting his balance back onto his almost frozen toes. It was hard to do though – they really had strung him up too high.

He rubbed his hot forehead on his arm feeling the strong contrast in temperature between the icy coldness of his arm and the heat from his forehead. He wondered if the team were looking for him. Yeah – by now they would know that he was missing – even if it hadn't been Deeks arriving at the beach. They'd be looking. He had to believe they were looking – and he had to hope that they would find him before the thugs came back for round two.

Thug guy was just a thug – it was Burrows that was scary. He hadn't broken into a sweat the whole time that he'd been beating on Eric. Somehow the realisation that this was all some sort of boring routine that Burrows had lots of practice at, wasn't pleasant.

Eric could feel himself beginning to pant as his heartbeat picked up and he frowned at himself in annoyance. He was doing it again. He had to think like Callen and Deeks. Freaking out was pointless, he had to find a way down and try to get himself free if he could. He had a brain, he could figure out things for himself and get himself out, couldn't he? Eric found himself glaring at the manacles. A brain wasn't useful for getting out of manacles. He needed a key or at least a hairpin or something. Eric swung on the end of the chain limply for a few minutes. It hurt to be strung up like this. What was more, it was totally boring.

Well, if he couldn't get himself down he could use his head to figure out how long he'd been stuck here already. At least it would get his mind off of the pain and the thugs. He'd guess by the movement of the light through the pigeon hole that it was getting toward sundown. His level of thirst and hunger could probably clue him in to how long it had been since he had been nabbed. He wasn't even sure if more than the one day had passed by. He _was_ thirsty but not all that hungry. He _never_ felt hungry when he was sick though – so that wasn't really a good way to judge the passage of time. He licked at his dry, slightly salty lips. He was definitely getting dehydrated though and the last thing he'd had to drink was coffee at five am before heading towards the beach. But since he was feverish, that was also not a good indicator to use.

Eric squinted over to the small sink that was tilted to one side on its rusted piping. They didn't seriously expect him to drink water from that mould covered thing did they? No probably not, since there was no way for him to get to it. Hopefully the thugs would take him down for the night – maybe feed him and give him some water or something. Yeah, they'd be back again soon to take him down. They wouldn't leave him strung up like this for long. They wanted him to work for them. They needed him in one piece for that and if he was strung up for too long he'd have dislocated shoulders eventually. It gave him a little bit of confidence knowing that. They'd be back – and they couldn't afford to hurt him too much anymore - could they?

Eric remembered what Burrows had said before the beating had started. They wanted him to work for them and if he didn't they'd kill him. Eric's feet slipped on the floor again and he gritted his teeth as he fought for balance. Working for them was not an option and they we're going to hurt him a lot more before they figured that out. Crap. Overall, he'd really rather stay strung up all night than have Burrows come back for round two.

There was a sound from outside that had Eric lifting his head.

They were coming.

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

Callen gave Sam the count of five before he kicked in the front door of Kathy Walton's rental house.

Sam gave a shout from the back door and Callen didn't waste a second making his way through the house. The kettle was boiling in the kitchen. She'd been in the middle of making herself a coffee. Callen moved swiftly from room to room.

He caught a glimpse of her shadow down the hall and raced after her.

She dived through the bedroom window shattering the glass around her and rolled to her feet in a move so smooth it might have been right out of an action film.

"Federal Agents!" yelled Sam sprinting from the other end of the house.

She was off and running like an olympic sprinter heading back away from Sam and towards the front of the house.

Callen cursed and sprinted through the house. They couldn't afford to lose her, he reminded himself. She was the only lead that they had to getting Eric back. A flash of Doms case filled his mind. A case that went nowhere because they'd had no leads to work with. Callen whipped around the end of the hallway and was through the front door in seconds.

She was fast. Long hair whipping out behind her. Callen let off a shot over her right shoulder cutting a path through some of that hair, but amazingly she kept right on running.

Sam burst through the neighbours bushes and dove at her feet. She fell and rolled and was up and running again like all the hounds of hell were after her.

Callen put on all the speed he had. She took a corner around to a side street and Sam signalled to him quickly before he cut back between some houses hoping to cut her off.

Callen pumped his legs rounding the corner after her. He fired his gun again and this time – even though she was a good forty feet ahead of him she slowed and stopped. Her hands went into the air and she turned slowly to face him heaving in great gulps of breath. Sam burst through behind her and aimed his weapon at her.

"Fire the gun, please," said the girl folding her hands behind her head.

Callen felt his eyebrows lift. "Excuse me?"

"Fire that gun and call for an ambulance. I'll explain everything."

Sam looked back at Callen but kept his weapon aimed on the girl.

Callen tilted his head to the side looking at the girl. He lifted his weapon and shot a bullet into the sky.

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

By the time they got to the interview room Callen was feeling a little bemused. She settled into the chair like she was relieved to be there and Callen settled into the seat across from her knowing that this was going to be about the weirdest interrogation ever.

"Kathy Walton otherwise known as Cassidy Snider …"

"Yeah, yeah. It's about time you guys figured it out," she said briskly. "Is my sister going to be safe?"

"Your sister?" said Callen.

She looked at him with a mixture of horror and terror. "You _did_ figure it out, didn't you? My sister is in protective custody?"

Callen frowned at her.

"Damn it! Damn you stupid sons of bitches to hell!"

"Calm down!" ordered Callen icily. "You're going to tell us where Eric Beale is and for your sake he'd better be in one piece."

Cassidy's head dropped and Callen watched her reign in her temper with difficulty. She looked at him with barely reigned in fury mixed with fear and desperation. "I'm only gonna say this once. You get my sister into protective custody in the next ten minutes or so help me I'm going to rip your face off."

Callen glanced up at the camera and nodded once.

Outside the interview room watching the interview feed, Hetty frowned thoughtfully.

Sam drew a breath. "Callen says she let him catch her," he said quietly.

"Yes, so I heard. There is much more to this case than we can see at the moment. I'll arrange for some of our people to collect Ms Snider's sister."

Callen watched Cassidy carefully. "Your sister will be taken care of," he said. "I want you to explain to me exactly what's going on and what you've done with Mr Beale."

She glared at him, heaving in breaths of air, almost panting with restrained panic. "My sister. If you don't get her out now, Burrow's will have her killed."

"I told you. We're already moving on that, but you need to give me more than that. You let me catch you. You had me shoot a bullet into the air and call for an ambulance. Why?"

"Burrows has a continual feed on the security camera on my street. There are cameras in every room in that house and even into the garden. I had to make it look like you shot me. I had to give him no reason to send his people after my sister. Damn it, I thought you agents had it all figured out. It's been going on right under your noses for years. Decades!"

"You tell me what you think has been going on? Explain it to me?" said Callen softly.

She clenched her jaw tightly and her fingers clawed at the wood of the table. "If my sister gets killed because of this …. " she bit at her lip, thinking hard. "Burrows is part of a secret international criminal agency. They take on any high paying criminal contracts that are out there. They assassinate people, kidnap people, bomb places, steal art, weapons or information – anything illegal that pays the kind of money they want. They make millions and if they haven't got the right people to do a job they kidnap them and make them do it whether it be through torture or intimidation. They literally have people all over the world ready to do their dirty work. It's like a high level international mafia organisation. They've been doing this stuff for the last forty years and I was _praying_ that by now someone would have figured it out. I might have got my sister killed because I was stupid enough to assume that you guys _had_ worked it out." She dropped her head into her hands.

Callen saw that her hands were shaking. "What about Eric Beale?"

She blinked at him as if she couldn't figure out who he was talking about for a few seconds. Then her eyes softened a little. "Your friend Eric has the skills they need for a big contract job. Burrows said the jobs worth seventy million. One way or another they are going to make him do what they want. Burrows has taken on the job of breaking him personally." Cassidy swallowed and locked saddened eyes with Callen. "That's not good," she added solemnly.

"Do you know where he is," asked Callen leaning forward with a momentary surge of hope.

Cassidy shook her head. "I was pulled into this because I'm good at tracking people down. I found him and I set up the best place for his snatch. He's got an impressive security system in his apartment by the way."

Callen couldn't help glaring at her a little. Eric would hate knowing that his privacy had been invaded.

"I _had_ to do it. They have people living in the same town as my sister and they send me photos every week of her just to let me know that they can take her down anytime they want to. I didn't want to work for them, I swear. But my sister is all I've got left and I'm not going to let anyone hurt her."

Sam stepped into the interview room carrying a mobile phone. "I've just had a photo of your sister sent to us. She's safe."

Cassidy gripped the phone and stared carefully at the photo. Her hands gripped the phone tightly. "She's in protective custody?"

Sam nodded reassuringly, "The feds know the deal. They're going to make sure nothing goes near her. She's already being moved to another state."

"Oh thank God, thank you!" she murmured and slumped in her chair as if all the strength had drained from her all at once.

Sam exchanged a glance with Callen, and walked back out of the interview room.

Callen watched, seeing the tension drain from her body language and waited for her to settle down again. "Can you help us take down this organisation and get our friend back?"

She shook her head. "The organisation is international, I told you. There are hundreds of people involved in some way, and nobody knows enough to do more than the minimum of damage – especially people hired like I was. You can't take it all down."

"We can make a dent or two," said Callen.

She gave him a fierce look. "Oh believe me, I'll help. They'll already know that I'm either dead or compromised. They've been doing this for a long time and their damned good at it. But as I said: I'm a forced hire, so I know next to squat about anything important."

Callen couldn't hide the disappointment he was feeling.

She leaned forward in her seat and locked her fierce gaze with his. "I'm a bounty hunter and I'm about the best there is. I'm also seriously pissed off. I'm gonna hunt Burrow's down and make him wish he'd never been born."

**_NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN_**

**_Sorry this is late. My mom has been hospitalised and - well - you can guess. Next updates may be late as well - sorry._**


	7. Chapter 7

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

Eric hated thug guy.

It was the first time that he'd truly been able to say that about anyone in his life but yeah – Eric really hated thug guy.

There were stripes down Eric's back from the leather belt that the bastard was using on him. Each of them stung and he knew that some of them were bleeding. For a while Eric had thought that he would cave in under the pain. He'd do whatever they wanted as long as they stopped hurting him. But each time he opened his mouth to tell them to stop, thug guy would hit him again and slowly Eric got mad. Really mad. He glared at thug guy and the bastard Burrows who was leaning against the door reading from an iphone while Eric was getting beaten half to death.

Burrows checked his watch and glanced up at Eric. "So, Eric. Have you decided to be sensible or should I let my friend here keep going with his persuasion techniques?"

Eric drew in a breath and kicked out at thug guy catching the bastard on the shoulder and making him slam against the wall. Yeah, that had felt good.

Thug guy glared at him and straightened his suit slowly. "That was so stupid," he said and the leather cut Eric's back over and over again with a lot more force than there had been until Eric couldn't help screaming from the blistering fire in his back.

The fire took over for a while and things faded in and out of focus. He wasn't sure if he passed out even but somewhere along the line the beating had stopped. Eric blinked and struggled to focus. Thug guy was taking a drink from a bottle of water. Eric's own throat constricted involuntarily. What he wouldn't give for a drink of water right now. All they had to do was bribe him with water and he'd do anything that they wanted. Well … . Maybe.

Eric coughed weakly feeling more fire in his raw throat. Actually, his throat was so sore from screaming and the virus that he didn't think he'd be able to swallow anything anyway. Eric closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see the water bottle. He swallowed painfully again. But the pain in his throat was nothing to the beating or the fire in his back and in his hot forehead. It was nothing to his fear that no one was gonna find him, nothing to his fear that no one _cared_ enough to even come looking for him. Oh yeah, now that was an old one – his feeling of inadequacy – especially in the field and therefore that no one really needed him which naturally led to the fear that no one would care enough to come looking for him. He'd taken psych 101 courses in college. He knew the fears were unfounded but he still couldn't help feeling them .

Eric's head hung limply. He had no strength left in him anymore, he was amazed that he'd been able to kick thug guy at all. He wanted to pass out. He really did. He couldn't understand why his body was putting up with this sort of abuse. Actually, he did sort of know why he was still awake. Eric had always had an overactive mind. His own thoughts kept him awake for hours sometimes … even when he was totally … exhausted … . Eric's eyes drifted closed.

_Hetty was talking somewhere in the background. She sounded very put out. "Mr Beale isn't an agent; he's not supposed to get into situations like this."_

_Callun's voice sounded bored. "He's probably just decided to take a few days off."_

_Sam spoke: "He's not tough enough for this job. I'm betting he's quit and gone home to his momma."_

_Kensi's bored voice drifted: "Change the subject guys."_

_Nell whistled, "Hey guys I think we have a more interesting case. Some weapons are missing …"_

Eric frowned. His arms twitched and pain rippled over him. Eric blinked, trying to focus his eyes. Burrows was standing there – or was that Callen?

"Eric, you really are turning out to be rather stubborn for a 90 pound geek," said Burrows. He glanced at his watch again.

A fist caught Eric in the ribs again sending him swinging on the end of the chain and Eric grunted. His stomach had long ago gone numb from all the beating but his ribs were damned sore.

"Pay attention kid, we're into round number three," said Sam … . No, no … it wasn't Sam. Thug guy lifted his fist once again.

"Hold it," said Burrows, pocketing his iphone. "Let's try a different approach. Get him down."

Eric pulled his drifting thoughts together in sudden panic. Oh hell, now what?

Thug guy wrapped his arms around Eric and lifted him a little so that the cuffs could be slipped over the hook. From somewhere Eric found the energy to squirm.

Burrows watched him thoughtfully. "Bring him."

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

_**Humbly sorry for the long delay. My mother spent six months in hospital but is home now and needs a lot of care. I'm getting into a routine and FINALLY I'm able to set aside some writing time. Let me know what you think, guys.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

Callen and Sam took the stairs up to the control room two at a time.

Nell looked up at them with hope in her eyes. "Did she tell you where Eric is?"

Callen bit back a wince. "Sorry Nell, Ms Snider's not in the loop enough to know. But she's still been a lot of help."

"She's pretty damned good," Sam added with a touch of admiration.

"We're looking for someone called Burrows. That's his alias. He's dark haired, with a touch of grey, a little shorter than me. He's in his late thirties or early forties with a noticeable scar above his lip. Eyes are brown and he smokes expensive cigars," said Callen. "Ms Snider says he lives within a ten mile radius of her house in Heather Road."

Nell nodded calling up the mapping information and typing in information on her keyboard.

Sam continued. "Burrows has expensive tastes. He always dresses in expensive suits. He gets a new car every year and is currently driving a black Mercedes, although the licence plate is no use as it's changed regularly. He's gadget savvy and always has the latest and best gear. He was a little late meeting up with her once and mentioned something about having to take the stairs back on April 9th this year. So she suggested we look for maintenance work orders done on building lifts for that date.

"Is she certain of the date?"

"She wrote it down."

"Also she's overheard him talking on his cell about working out at the gym while he's waiting for his dry cleaning so she thinks maybe he lives close to …"

"I think I've got him," said Nell. "Penthouse guy. Lives alone and drives a late model black Merc Bens. His building has a gym and a dry cleaning facility. The elevator had to be serviced on April 9th due to a … oh … actually there was a dead body inside it. It was an unsolved crime. The guy was shot through the head and the police never found out what happened. The weapon was never found. The Police report says it looked like a professional job. They interviewed the building occupants but Penthouse guy wasn't supposed to have been home at the time and he had an alibi."

"Do you have a name on this penthouse guy?"

"He's listed as Neil Smith," said Nell. "I think I can get a security camera photo."

Callen stepped closer to look over her shoulder as the image cleared and she zoomed in on the slightly turned away face of Smith. "Deeks is with Ms Snider. Have the picture sent to his phone and get her to ID him."

Hetty stepped into the room, straightening her suit and looking worried. "Do you have something?"

Callen nodded. "A lead … maybe."

Hetty nodded. "I've been asking questions in certain places about that $70 million dollar contract that Ms Snider mentioned. There's only one possible connection. A certain country has put up a reward for access to certain CIA and military information. My guess is Mr Beale is being asked to hack into these files that are classified so high that not even our Director can access them. Nevertheless, extra precautions are being put in place as we speak to protect the information."

"They're going to make Eric hack into CIA and Defence files?"

"No Mr Callen. Mr Beale is going to be asked to hack into the files listed as for the President's eyes only."

"Oh … crumbs," murmured Nell softly.

"Eric couldn't …, could he?" asked Sam. "I mean Eric's good but he's not that good … is he?"

Nell nodded her head slowly. "He's definitely that good and yeah … he could, even if they do add extra precautions to protect those files."

Hetty took a deep breath. "This information is as hot as it gets people. It's been made clear to me that anyone … _anyone_ accessing that information without the proper clearance will not likely see the light of day – friend or foe."

Nell looked at Hetty in disbelief, but Hetty's expression was deadly serious.

"There's a time limit people," continued Hetty into the tense silence in the room. "We have about thirty hours before the contract offer expires, which also means that these people will be using every method of persuasion that they can come up with to make our Mr Beale cooperate."

Callen's head snapped around to face Hetty. "Thirty hours?"

"What happens after thirty hours?" asked Nell tentatively.

"Then the contract expires and the kidnappers will have no further use for Mr Beale," said Hetty quietly. "From the way this is looking they will kill him."

"They could just let him go," said Kensi, glancing quickly at Nell.

"No," said Callen. "Burrows is ruthless and a killer. If they lose that sort of a contract because of Eric, they will kill him."

Nell gripped her pen so hard that it snapped. "We've got to find him. They … They're … Eric's gonna be … . They'll … ," she spun abruptly and started taping away frantically at her keyboard.

Callen was headed for the door with Sam in toe. "Kensi, you and Deeks keep pumping Ms Snider for any information she can recall on Burrows or any other people or places that might be relevant and keep us in the loop. We're going to check this penthouse out."

Hetty pulled them up. "If this organisation is the one that I think it is, Callen then you need to approach it very carefully."

Callen and Sam froze by the door and glanced back at her.

"I may have come across this organisation once or twice before," said Hetty. "If they operate the same way as they used to then they may have booby traps or at the least, remote warning devices that will alert them to your presence. We have to move very carefully here, we can't afford to tip them off."

Callen shared a glance with Sam and nodded. "We'll be careful, Hetty. We are not losing another one of our team."

Nell glanced back at him. There was a definate shimmer of tears in her eyes but the look she gave him was filled with hope and determination. "Not a chance," she said.

Hetty nodded. "Absolutely not. We need to move as quickly as possible on this if we're going to get our Eric back in one piece people, and we can't afford to make any mistakes."

**_NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN_**

**_Hope you liked this chapter guys. R&R thanks._**

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_


End file.
